


everything that makes you wonder

by meggiewrites



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: (just barely) - Freeform, Boys In Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Julian as a Tour Guide, Kissing, M/M, Paris - Freeform, Paris Saint-Germain F.C., listen idek what to tag this as it's all sugar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-17 14:36:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12367851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: They hadn’t planned the visit much in advance. Sure, there had been the few times they’d seen each other during the first half of the season, and dozens of calls and skype sessions, but this was the first time they were truly alone with each other ever since they’d become something more serious and finally put a name to their relationship.Or: It's January and Julian's transfer to PSG has been finalized only about a week ago. The first thing he does when things finally settle down a bit is inviting his boyfriend to come visit him in his new hometown. Obviously.





	everything that makes you wonder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bananasplit86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananasplit86/gifts).



> Dear recipient – I have to admit that I picked this prompt mostly because it's the OTP of a good friend of mine, and also because she had a headcanon that matched with it pretty perfectly. Also, mostly plotless fluff is my forte; that said, I hope I managed to come up with something that both you and her will enjoy, even if it was written, quite literally, in the last possible minute ♥
> 
> As usual, a big big thank you to [Khalehla](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla) for her (this time incredibly swift and spontaneous) beta work – without you, most of what I write wouldn't be something I could subject my readers to. Thank you so so much ♥♥♥

Airports had always been Matze’s least favourite thing about travelling. It always felt like you’re stuck, in a way, forced to spend hours sitting around, not really doing anything, sometimes buying stuff you don’t really need, waiting for the actual journey to continue. Stuck in one line or other, waiting to go through security or the border of the country you’re entering.

Usually, when travelling with the team, his girlfriend or his family, once he was past passport control, he couldn’t wait to get out of the airport so he could finally get some fresh air. This time though, he immediately halted as he entered the arrivals hall, letting his eyes skip over the people waiting for someone to arrive, some of them holding signs, others just eagerly awaiting their loved ones.

It took him some time to spot Julian in the crowd. The brunet was looking down at his phone, dressed in a winter jacket, fingerless gloves and a big scarf that pretty much obscured parts of his face. In his left hand he was clutching a slightly crumpled sheet of paper.

Julian didn’t notice Matze until the defender came to a halt right in front of him, quietly clearing his throat. Then, Julian’s head snapped up, and after a short moment of surprise, a big smile found it’s way onto his face and he immediately engulfed Matze in a big hug.

They hadn’t planned this much in advance. Julian’s move to Paris had only been fixed shortly before it had been announced to the media, with Christmas and New Years, then time spent with family and friends getting in the way of the two of them meeting up earlier. Sure, there had been the few times they’d seen each other during the first half of the season, and dozens of calls and skype sessions, but this was the first time they were truly alone with each other ever since. Well.

Matze smiled into Julian’s shoulder at the memory. About a year ago he hadn’t thought it possibly, but that warm day in August when they’d become something more serious and finally put a name to their relationship, had been one of the happiest in all his life.

“Good to see you,” Julian muttered, and Matze felt something in his stomach swirl when he didn’t add his usual ‘mate’ in the end.

Matze nodded, burying his nose in his hair, mumbling “you too”, barely resisting the need to press a kiss on the dark tresses.

They didn’t kiss, not in a crowded place like this – even if it was unlikely anyone would recognize Matze and Julian had yet to make himself a household name in this town, having arrived only about a week earlier – but they lingered in the comfort of their embrace for way longer that seemed acceptable for two mates.

Once they reluctantly untangled from each other, Julian lowered his eyes, in an almost bashful way that’s so unlike his usual bravado. He fiddled with the paper that he was still holding, now a bit more wrinkled, before showing it to Matze. There was a crudely drawn heart on it, and Matze swore he could see Julian’s cheeks flushing as their eyes met again, but the dark-haired midfielder just shrugged before folding it together and putting it in the pocket of his jacket.

Matze couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, his heart stumbling as Julian draped an arm over his shoulder; this one an acceptable gesture between friends, and the weight on his shoulders felt familiar and comforting and loving.

They made a quick stop at the hotel where Julian was staying. He’d told Matze not to bother with booking a room of his own, since his suite was more than big enough for them and since it had two bedrooms anyway – for friends and family to stay in, Julian said; no one would raise any suspicions even if someone spotted them entering it together.

Of course, the smaller bedroom went completely unnoticed by them as Julian led him to the master bedroom, telling Matze to just drop his overnight bag on the king-sized bed. They didn’t stay long, as, with a gleam in his eyes, Julian told him he had a little tour planned for them. “Nothing special, mind you, but just so that you’ve seen at least some of the city when you leave again tomorrow.”  Matze could tell by the smirk on Julian's face that the brunet didn’t intend on them leaving the room again once they returned that evening. (He wasn't going to complain.)

They had a bit more than half of the day once they disembarked the Métro at Abbesses, which as Julian informed Matze, was in the 18th Arrondissement, Montmartre. The station itself was covered by a glass-covered intricate entrance, which (Julian had to quickly check his phone) was apparently one of only two of those left in the city.

Julian shrugged as Matze asked him what they were going to do there. 

“Kevin recommended it to me; said it was romantic.” He grinned to himself. “Also, apparently, there’s this place that makes really great crêpes just a few blocks away. Come on!”

The shop ended up being a little hole-in-the-wall place that sold the treats right over the counter. There was a bit of a line, but once they reached the front, the saleswoman, a black girl with a pleasant smile and an excited voice, happily accepted Julian’s order even if it was a weird mix between French and English, and swiftly poured some dough on a hotplate. Before Matze could blink, she’d already added the filling, wrapped them into a triangle and handed them over, protected only by thin paper that stuck to the dough a bit.

Julian had picked a jam-filled one, tinting his lips slightly pink, while Matze, after a bit of deliberation, had indulged his sweet tooth and went with Nutella and banana, resisting a moan as he bit into the warm goodness.

“Jesus, this is good.”

“Right?” Julian smirked, liking some jam of his lips. Matze followed the movement with his eyes. Julian had put his sunglasses on that he’d picked up back at the hotel, his breath frozen and his nose reddened from the harsh wind. He looked absolutely gorgeous. Matze wanted to kiss him. For now, he settled for a wide smile that felt as if it could tear his face apart.

Subconsciously, they’d started wandering a bit, admiring the pretty houses and the colourful stores. The street went uphill, became a bit more crowded and when it opened up to reveal a small square, it looked like it was filled to the brim with restaurants and what looked like street artists complete with easels and tons of paintings presented on tables or shelves.

Julian grinned when he saw the surprised look on Matze’s face.

“This is the Place de Terte. Apparently there’s even more artists and people here during the summer, can you imagine?”

He took Matze’s hand and squeezed it a bit, the wool of his gloves scratching against Matzes bare, cold fingers. For a second, Matze felt his stomach lurch. Normally, back in Germany, holding hands in public would be more than off-limits. But after frantically turning his head a few times, he realized that no one was paying them attention. It was a crowded space, and spotting their interlinked hands would be difficult enough. Also, realistically, it was unlikely that anyone would recognize them, what with Julian being new at PSG and Matze probably far from a household name in any of France. Matze let out a breath of relief, even though it still didn’t ease his fear of any German tourists potentially hovering around and identifying them.

Julian squeezed his hand again encouragingly, smiling at him, letting his thumb trace gentle circles into his hand. It took Matze another moment to return the smile, but when he finally nodded his head slightly, Julian grinned and tugged him along.

The artist in front of whom they came to a halt looked like he came straight out of a movie. Dressed in a denim jacket and a striped shirt, about a head shorter than the two footballers, a beret on his head. It was a very cliched look, but probably appealed to the tourists. The paintings on his easels were clearly recognizable as quickly drawn portraits, done in black and white, but somehow there was an elegance to the simple but meticulous way the lines were placed to make up very distinctive features. Matze stiffened up as soon as the man turned to them after saying his goodbyes to his last customers, so Julian quickly pulled back his hand, shoving it into his pocket.

“Bonjour messieurs, would you like a portrait?” he asked in strongly accented English, grinning up at them from underneath bushy eyebrows.

Julian turned to look at Matze, who only shrugged but couldn’t resist the excited look in his boyfriend’s face, before nodding eagerly.

The artist ushered them to sit down on two wobbly folding chairs before intently mustering them. “Do you want the image together? Seperately?”

“Together!” Julian said, knowing that he didn’t have to ask Matze for confirmation of that.

With a nod, the artist went to work. His hands worked quickly, and only every minute or so he looked up to scrutinize their features again. After about fifteen minutes, at the point when Matze’s butt started to feel uncomfortably cold, his fingers knotted into the wool of his jumper, the man put his brush aside.

“Voilà!” He turned the easel around, revealing the finished painting.

It was only a sketch, but done in a way that made the breath catch in Matze’s throat, still. The Julian on the image was smiling to himself in a way that looked eerily similar to the original. And Matze, Matze himself was smiling at him, an affectionate look in his eyes.  _ Do I really look at him like that? _ , he thought.

Julian had already gotten up, shaking hands with the artists, thanking him as Matze still sat on his chair, slightly dazed. Julian said something, and the man laughed.

“Aren’t you that new guy at PSG tho’? Dachsler, was it?” Julian was still smiling, but Matze could see that it seemed slightly more forced as he nodded curtly.

“Ohhh! My son is a big fan! Would you mind...?” 

Julian shook his head. “Of course not.” They snapped a quick selfie, both smiling into the man’s phone before signing on a new sheet of paper.

As Julian payed the artist, generously tipping him by the looks of it, he murmured something that Matze couldn’t understand before he stepped up to his side again.

When he looked at him questioningly, Julian whispered, “Just so that he wouldn’t tell anyone about when exactly he met me. And I don’t think he recognized you, don’t worry.”

Matze was sure he didn’t look convinced, but Julian’s carefree smile cheered him up quite a bit; though he raised a confused eyebrow when the midfielder handed him the plastic bag with the portrait. 

Julian just shrugged. “I thought you’d like a little souvenir for your first visit in Paris. Also,” he added after a second, “you can put it in some hidden corner in your apartment whereas someone stumbling over it in my hotel room is just too likely. Maybe you could send me a picture of it, though. Or maybe make me a copy for when I got my own place.”

“Sure,” Matze said, and as his hand gripped the bag tighter he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of having something back at home that reminded him of Julian, something that was more prominent than all the pictures living in his phone.

Julian didn’t take his hand again as they walked further up the hill, but their shoulders kept bumping together, sending flares of warmth through Matze’s body that, at this point, felt closer to an icicle than anything else.

He shivered as they stepped out on a big terrace, wind running through his hair, making him tug his coat closer around himself. He wished he’d brought warmer clothes. He startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. With his other one, Julian was unwrapping his scarf, before draping it around Matze’s shoulders.

“I’m quite warm,” he said as Matze opened his mouth to protest before turning back around.

The view was spectacular. The city sprawled out in front of them like an endless desert of shimmering roofs and fuming chimneys. In the distance on the far right, Matze could make out the Eiffel tower. Julian tugged at his sleeve, and only when they turned around did Matze really pay attention to the gigantic white church behind them.

“The Sacre Coeur. Apparently this is one of the best views of Paris you can get. Says Kevin,” Julian added with a tilt of his head, chuckling to himself. “We could go inside, but honestly, I’d rather stay outside for a bit.” Julian squinted up at the sun that was slowly coming out behind the clouds, his nose crinkling up adorably.

Matze shrugged. “I’m okay with that.”

They took a selfie with the view, of course, one that was perfectly fine to put on twitter had they wanted to, but instead Julian quickly leaned into him as Matze slipped his phone back into his pocket, pecking his cheek. Julian’s lips were cold, but they still left a burning imprint on his skin. Usually, Matze would have shot him a glare for an action like that, but with the sun shining down on them and Julian beaming as if he wanted to enter into a competition with it, he didn’t have it in him to feel cross with his boyfriend.

They walked down the big steps slowly, soaking up as much sunlight as possible, laughing together as they exchanged some stories from training and as Julian described his first few days at PSG in full detail.

They ended up back at Abbesses to take the Métro to the Louvre. 

“We won’t go inside,” Julian said, “because apparently it takes at least half a day, even if you only want to look at the Mona Lisa and a few other things. I’ll probably do it eventually.” 

Still, they took another selfie in front of the famous pyramid, this time also taking a second one where they both pulled silly faces, Matze sticking out his tongue while Julian tried to look cross-eyed but failed and instead dissolved into a laughing fit that Matze quickly joined in once he glanced at the blurred result.

As they walked through the Tuileries - the big gardens in front of the Louvre, Julian informed him - before turning back around to walk in the direction of the Île de la Cité to look at the Notre Dame, Matze dared to put his arm around Julian’s shoulders; he was rewarded with a big grin from his other half who also affectionately pinched Matze’s side underneath his coat, letting his fingers linger a bit before dropping his hand again.

When they passed by one of the pedestrian bridges, Julian nodded his head in its direction. “So that’s the Pont des Arts. People used to buy locks to put on it, then throw the keys into the river.”

Matze furrowed his brows. “Why would they do that?”

Julian smiled to himself, fidgeting with the zipper of his jacket. “To prove their eternal love. They usually engraved their initials into it, or something. Quite cheesy, I know.”

Matze thought that he wouldn’t have minded doing something like that, but it felt too early in their relationship to be said out loud. They took another selfie on the bridge though, and just as Julian pressed the release, Matze turned his head to kiss him on the cheek. Swiftly, so that no one could see, heart pounding faster, but the happily surprised look in Julian’s face made it worth it.

The Notre Dame was pretty, both from the inside and the outside, but Julian grinned and was quick to agree when Matze claimed that the Kölner Dom was more impressive.

“Don’t let the Parisians hear that!” Julian cackled, which resulted in one of the guards hushing him. Giggling, they took care to get away quickly before someone would complain about them.

“And, what do you think?” Julian asked when they finally made it outside, still chuckling. “Do I make an okay tour guide?”

Matze raised his eyebrows. “Actually, you’re quite impressive, considering you haven’t been here for more than a week. Now I only wonder, how much of this comes from you, and how much is actually Trapp’s work.”

Julian huffed, poking his tongue out at him. “Jerk. I’ll let you know that most of this was actually my idea. Then again, we’d already been to Paris with our advanced course back at school, so. And I might have studied Google Maps pretty much the whole morning, just to be sure that we don’t get lost.”

Matze snorted, which his boyfriend didn’t grace with a response.

The restaurant that they had dinner in was again, Julian admitted, a tip from Kevin. But with how good the food was and the fact that they’d gotten a private table, away from any and all curious stares, Matze was grateful for it. They kept feeding each other little bites as soon as the waiters disappeared, giggling when either of them dropped something on the table cloth or the expensive carpet. When they left the restaurant again, comfortably full and slightly dizzy from the two beers they each had, it was already dark outside.

Once they’d boarded the metro, Matze had expected to go back to the hotel immediately, and was surprised when instead, they came back to the surface and could see the Eiffel Tower in between the buildings.

Julian grinned at him when he shot him a curious glance. “You didn’t think I’d miss out on bringing you to the most important landmark of the city, did you?”

“Is it still open?”

Julian nodded. “Until 11 pm, actually. And the good thing is, there’s not nearly as much people now as during the daytime.”

Actually, there were almost no people at all, which was probably partially to the fact that it was in the middle of the week only two hours before midnight, and partially due to the cold wind sweeping through the streets. Matze shivered, tilting his head up, looking at where the bright light on top of the tower was flashing. He doubted this was a good idea, but Julian put an arm around his waist and gently tugged him along.

They took the elevator, and when they stepped out on the platform they almost slipped on frozen ground. Matze couldn’t help but laugh when Julian had to balance himself with the help of his arms in order not to fall on his face. His scarf was again wrapped around Matze’s neck.

Julian leaned against the railing, his dark silhouette merging with the city behind him, blocking out the lights from the buildings. Over his shoulder, Matze thought he could make out the Sacre Coeur.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Julian looked over his shoulder, patting the railing next to him, inviting Matze to come stand by his side. They huddled close together, their sides touching from their toes to their shoulders.

“When I arrived a week ago, I really wanted to come up here, but when I was done with my medical and all the other tests, it was already dark outside. It was Adrien, actually, who pointed out to me that you could go up at night, too. I was on my own, though, but as soon as I saw this view,” - he gestured out to the static lights of the city, dotting the ground like a mirror image of the sky above them, the trails of yellow and red where the cars were making their way through the streets - “I knew I had to share it with someone special. With you.”

It had started snowing, in a way that felt almost like rain but not quite and you could tell by the way it got caught in your hair before melting away quickly. Julian’s hand brushed against Matze’s, then covered it with his own before lacing their fingers together, bringing them up to his lips and kissing Matze’s hand. 

By now, both their fingers were cold as ice, but Matze didn’t even notice it as Julian kissed his thumb, ring finger, pinky. As he lifted his head again, tugging on Matze’s hand to bring them closer together, their bodies flush against each other. AJulian’s frozen breath hit his neck, before covering it with warm lips and the lick of a hot tongue, working his way up over Matze’s jaw then cheekbones.

The kiss was deliberate in a way none of their previous kisses had been so far. Instead of feeling like a storm, it felt like a confession, a silent yearning, getting louder as they slotted their mouths together again and again, hidden behind a supporting beam, hands gripping everywhere they could reach. Both of them gasped when they pulled apart. 

Matze lifted a trembling hand, letting his knuckles trail town at the side of Julian’s face. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice broken, and it felt like everything that went unsaid between them found a space inside those words.  _ I miss you. I love you. I need you. _

Julian just looked at him, his eyes unreadable. But then, a smile bloomed on his face, and he laughed an incredulous little laugh before crashing their lips together again, with a newfound passion that burned brighter than all the lights of the city combined.

And suddenly, Matze couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel.

 

**Author's Note:**

>   * A formal apology to everyone who lived in Paris for a while or visited longer than just a few days. In total I've been there for about four days in the span of three years, and I don't remember too much. Except that I did most of the things the boys did, as well.
>   * This is set in winter break, just after Julian's transfer, to go hand-in-hand with my friend's headcanons. It's probably earlier in the year than you expected, but I hope it works like this, too.
>   * Title from Charlie's Last Letter from The Perks of Being a Wallflower which I really adore (both the movie/book and the letter itself)
>   * I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way
> 

> 
> Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


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